


Helping Hand

by pikasafire



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Multi, Philadelphia Flyers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-15
Updated: 2012-06-15
Packaged: 2017-11-07 19:47:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/434702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikasafire/pseuds/pikasafire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's lots of things you can't do when you've got casts on both your arms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Helping Hand

**Author's Note:**

> For hockeyrarepairs, prompt set #8. I am SO sorry that this is so late - I hope it’s worth the wait! For those who don't follow the Flyers, all you need to know is that Claude has just had surgery on his wrists and now has casts on both his arms.

  


When Danny's phone rings a little after midnight, just after he's curled up in bed, he doesn't have to look at it to know who it is.

He sighs and rolls over, thumbing the answer button. "What now?" he says as greeting.

"I can't get the peanut butter open."

"It's after midnight, Claude."

"And I want peanut butter." he says, like it's obvious.

"I can't leave the boys so I can come over and open a jar for you. Have something else on your toast."

Claude sighs down the line, sounding frustrated. "Sean can look after them."

"Sean is sleeping. Like I should be. Why don't you ask Brayden to open it?"

"Brayden left." Claude says, "Gone to stay with Scotty for the night. He said I was annoying."

"Well, that's true."

"Danny," It's perilously close to a whine, and Danny steels himself. It doesn't work when Cameron does it, he should be able to withstand Claude being pathetic.

"You should have just stayed here then, shouldn't you?" They've had this fight three times since Claude's surgery. Danny's getting awfully sick of answering these bizarre requests. Claude doesn't live that far away, but he's got the worst timing, and everyone knows Danny can't say no to Claude.

"I can look after myself." Claude argues, just like the last few times.

"Yeah, all these phone-calls are really convincing me of that. I'm not coming over just to open a jar. Enjoy your peanut-butter-less existence, or come and stay with me."

There's a pause. "...Fine." Claude says, grudgingly.

"I'll pick you up in the morning." Danny says, "Goodnight Claude."

Danny can still hear Claude whining about the peanut butter as he presses the button to hang up.

*

He herds the boys into the car in the morning.

"How long is Claude staying for?" Carson asks excitedly, "Is he coming back for good?"

"Just for a few weeks." Danny says, "Sean has Claude's room now, remember."

Cameron looks confused. "Where's Claude gonna sleep then?"

Danny’s never really explained what the hell he and Claude _are_ \- he’s not so sure he knows himself, and so he fumbles for an answer and tries not to blush. Judging by the way Caelan wrinkles his nose and sighs dramatically, he's not successful. That kid is too astute for his own good. "We'll figure it out later," Danny says. He tries to change the topic, "You guys will help me take care of him, right?"

Cameron looks excited at the prospect, chattering the entire way to Claude's house, while the other two play Nintendo in the back, only half listening.

Brayden answers the door when they arrive, "Oh, thank fuck." He cranes his head back into the house, "G! Danny's here, get your shit together!" Brayden turns back, "You _are_ taking him right?"

"Yeah. He's been a nightmare?"

The long suffering look on Brayden's face is all he needs to know.

Danny directs the boys in front of him, into the mess of the lounge, where Claude is buried under a pile of blankets. "You packed?" Danny asks, even though he knows the answer.

"No."

"Why not?" Danny rolls his eyes.

Claude holds his arms out. "It hurts."

"You know, for a hockey player who spends his time getting slammed into boards and punched in the face, you complain a lot."

"This is different," Claude insists, "This was _doctors_. There's nothing cool about that."

"I think you're cool." Cameron pipes up loyally and even Claude has to smile at that. "Can I draw on your casts?"

Danny intervenes before Cameron manages to get his hands on a Sharpie. "Cam, why don't you come help me pack a bag for Claude. You can draw on him later."

Serves Claude right if Cam decides to pack fifteen Flyer's shirts and no underwear.

*

Danny's taken care of Claude when he's sick before, but usually it's limited to three days or so. After day five, the prospect of six weeks of this has Danny contemplating putting arsenic in Claude's breakfast. Claude's always a little bit whiny when he's sick or injured, but with his arms in casts, he can't play X-Box, he doesn't _want_ to watch movies or read. He can't use the gym, or swim and he's not supposed to have beer with his painkillers. And Danny has to hear about it. Constantly.

The boys do their best to keep him entertained, but Claude's grumpy and annoyed and it doesn't take long for the boys to roll their eyes at him and leave him alone.

When he realises Claude's been using Sean as a personal servant, Danny loses his temper. "I'm going to call your mother."

"No!" Claude says, alarmed, "Don't do that!"

"Then stop being a baby! And stop making Sean get you things."

"He's a rookie. It's like his job."

"His job is to play hockey. And he's on break too."

Claude rolls his eyes, impatient, “It’s not like I’m making him give me foot rubs or anything. It’s just getting me a drink.”

“Actually,” Sean points out as he enters, handing an open soda can to Claude, “You did make me do that. Yesterday.”

“Claude!”

“Fine,” Claude scowls, “I won’t. I’ll make you do it instead.” He slumps down further on the couch, the very picture of petulance.

Sean just grins at him, then over at Danny. “You walked right into that one, man.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Danny sighs.

*

The boys have gone back to Sylvie's for the second week of Claude’s recovery, to spare Danny from a breakdown; they aren't really that much work, they entertain themselves mostly, but there's still three of them. And Claude. Claude's more work than all three kids combined.

Danny’s tired, and his patience is wearing thin. He understands Claude’s frustration, he _does_. And Danny knows that he’s no picnic when he’s injured himself, but, Claude’s sulking is making Danny actually consider the idea of calling Claude’s Mom to come deal with him instead. He’s not Claude’s _boyfriend_ , he doesn’t have to deal with this, right?

But he already knows that he’s going to put up with it. Because it’s Claude, and Danny might not be his boyfriend, but, there’s no use in pretending he doesn’t want to be.

"Your hair is disgusting." Danny points out, as he brushes his hand affectionately over the top of Claude’s head the next morning. Claude’s still camped out on the couch, piles of blankets around him, even though it’s getting warm outside.

Claude rolls his eyes. "Yeah, well, it's a bit hard when you can't get your arms wet."

"Why didn't you ask me?"

"That's pretty gay, dude."

"Yeah, coz there's nothing gay about us at all." Danny says, wanting to bite his tongue the moment he says it. They’ve never really acknowledged what goes on between them. He blusters through it instead. "I’ll help. Stay here, I'll get the bags." Thankfully, Claude’s still there when he returns a few minutes later. "C'mon, I have the bath running too."

"Fuck off." Claude says, but there’s no venom in it, an automatic cranky response.

Danny just ignores him. "I even put bubbles in there for you.” he teases, trying to lighten him up. “They smell like strawberries."

"I fucking hate you."

There’s a bit more heat in it this time, and Danny grins, “No, you don’t. Now come on. You smell bad.”

The lure of being clean is apparently too much temptation to put up too much of a fight, and Claude follows Danny with minimal whining. Danny pulls off his shirt as Claude undresses, then ties the plastic garbage bags around Claude’s casts like he has for the last week. He can’t help but laugh a little as he finishes. Claude _does_ look ridiculous, standing naked in front of a bubble bath, garbage bags ties to his arms.

“I’ll drown you in the bath.” Claude threatens, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips, “Casts or not. I can take you.”

“Relax,” Danny sighs, “You’re really difficult sometimes. You know that? Just get in.”

“You’re annoying as fuck sometimes,” Claude parrots. “You know that?” But he does as he’s told, and Danny doesn’t miss the little pleased groan Claude lets out as he sinks into the hot water.

Danny rolls his eyes. “Mature. Tilt your head back.”

Claude does so, letting Danny wet his hair. But jerks his head away as Danny massages the shampoo in.

"Stay _still_." Danny sighs.

"You're pulling my hair," Claude whines, splashing water at him with his toes.

"Oh for- _fine_." Danny stands, stripping quickly, "Jesus. Move forward."

Danny's expecting an argument, but Claude just scoots forward a little, leaving room for Danny climb in behind him, before shifting back to nestle himself with his back to Danny's chest.

"Better? Is this what you wanted?" Danny asks, longsuffering, going back to massaging the shampoo through Claude's hair, gentle hands contradicting his tone. “It’s like dealing with an overgrown child. Not even the boys used to make such a fuss.”

Claude opts to stay silent, but his muscles relax as Danny massages his head, a pleased little noise in the back of his throat.

Danny reaches for the jug, rinsing Claude’s hair out gently. "There. Done." he says affectionately, running his fingers through Claude's hair one last time. "Are you going to be that impossible every time you need your hair washed."

"I hate this," Claude mutters under his breath, sounding genuinely miserable, and Danny can feel some of his frustration melt away.

"I know," he says, pressing a kiss to Claude's bare shoulder. "It'll be over soon. A few more weeks and they'll be off."

Claude stays quiet, staring down at the bubbles like they've offended him. "Can't do anything fun. I can't even jerk off."

Danny laughs, slips his arm around Claude's waist, pulling him a little closer, knocking his knee on the side of the bathtub in the process. The bath is big, but it really isn't big enough for two grown men. Danny doesn't mind. "Is that why you've been so difficult?” he teases. “You could just ask, you know. We haven’t done that in a while."

Claude shrugs, awkward. "I can't do you.” He holds up his plastic covered arms, “Hurt like a bitch when I tried."

"I'm pretty sure I'll live," Danny says, tracing his fingers down Claude's side, enjoying the closeness. They haven’t touched much. Even sleeping, Claude’s casts get in the way. Danny didn’t want to push, not entirely sure where they stand with each other, not when Claude’s been so difficult recently. But, if it’s just a case of sexual frustration, then Danny can definitely help with that. He presses his mouth to Claude’s neck, bites down a little as he snakes his hand down, teasing at the skin low on Claude’s stomach, tracing the crease of his thigh. “So, you haven’t gotten off in, what, a week?” Claude shifts, not answering, trying to get Danny’s hand to move where he _wants_ it and Danny grins, “Or you’ve been waiting until I’m asleep, and rubbing one out on the bed?”

Claude lets his head fall back onto Danny’s shoulder, scooting down a little to give Danny’s hands more room to maneuver. “C’mon. Danny-”

“Keep your casts out of the water,” Danny reminds him, voice low, and he curls his fingers around Claude’s cock. He’s hard already, and Danny doesn’t tease, gives Claude exactly what he wants.

Claude’s feet slip against the bottom of the bathtub, trying to gain enough leverage to push his hips up into Danny’s grip and Danny laughs, tilts his head so he can nudge at Claude’s ear with his nose, “Hey,” he murmurs quietly, slowing his hand and waiting for Claude to turn his head.

“Hey,” Claude smiles, shifts so he can turn his head enough to kiss him. The angle’s awkward and a little uncomfortable, the kiss far sweeter than it should be. Claude’s the first to pull away, grinning at him, up close, and Danny desperately tries to remind himself why he and Claude are a bad idea. It’s hard to remember when he’s this close to him, can count the freckles Claude always denies he has, smiling at him like what they’re doing together is more than just convenience.

“Come on, old man,” Claude demands, pushing his hips up and Danny gives him a put-upon sigh, longsuffering.

“Pushy.” He complains, but does what he’s told, Claude’s head back against his shoulder, but tilted close enough that Danny can press a quick kiss against his temple, tightening his grip.

It doesn’t take long, Claude needy and desperate, twisting in Danny’s grip, searching more, _more_. Danny wraps his arm around Claude’s chest, trying to keep him anchored, water sloshing over the sides of the tub, skin wet and slippery under his hands and it’s only the work of a few minutes before Claude is shaking apart in his arms.

“Better?” Danny murmurs, amused, nudging at Claude’s neck and pressing kisses just under his ear.

Claude laughs, straightening up a bit, pressing back to feel Danny hard against the small of his back. "I could blow you," Claude says, sounding uncertain.

"No way. You hate that." Danny says. He appreciates what Claude wants to do, but he’s not going to make him do something he doesn’t like just because he has a misguided sense of fairness when it comes to orgasms. "Just. Let me take care of you, okay? I can take care of myself."

"Mm, really?" Claude raises a suggestive eyebrow, "Can I watch?"

It's so much like normal Claude that Danny laughs helplessly. "Pervert." He says. "C'mon, get up. This water is now disgusting."

*

Claude’s a little easier to bear during the days after, and Danny’s especially glad that the boys are with Sylvie. Makes Claude a lot easier to deal with when Danny can just blow him to make him shut up for a bit.

"We could always ask Couts to give you a hand." Claude teases, both of them sprawled on the bed in Danny’s room, Claude, naked, floppy and sated and Danny, still hard and shifting a little on the bed, still dressed in his sweats and t-shirt.

Danny laughs, his face pressed against Claude’s throat, "Don't be ridiculous. It's fine, I told you I don't mind."

"No, really. He'd like it. He told me."

“Yeah, right,” Danny shrugs, a little uncomfortable. He’s noticed Sean, of _course_ he has. But it’s not like Danny wants to _do_ anything about it, okay? That would be weird. Sean’s still practically a baby, his whole career ahead of him. Danny can appreciate a sweet, good looking guy without wanting to fuck him. And the fact that Claude has noticed Danny’s attention makes him a little self-conscious.

But, Claude seems to enjoy Danny’s discomfort, grinning over at him. “He has a crush on you.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Yeah, he does. I’ll ask him, and he’ll totally blow you.” He pushes himself up on his elbows, still undressed, “Hey! Couts!" Claude shouts through the half open door.

Danny stares at him, horrified. "Claude!" he hisses, "Don't you dare!"

"Yeah?" Sean pops his head around the door, seemingly unbothered by Claude’s nudity and the questionable activities he seems to be interrupting.

Claude ignores Danny’s quiet meltdown completely. "You count as a rookie until the start of the next season, right?"

Sean shrugs, "I guess? But, like that's going to stop you bossing me around anyway."

"Point. So, as a rookie, you should do what I say. Jerk Danny off for me, okay? I can’t because of these stupid fucking casts. And he’s getting grumpy."

"No, I’m not! Claude!" Danny looks mortified, "No!" he turns to Sean, who just shrugs and opens the door wider to take a step forward. "Sean!" and Sean pauses.

"Why not?" Claude demands. "Fine. He can probably blow you if that's what you'd prefer." He glances questioningly over at Sean, who shrugs and nods.

Danny can't believe he's actually having to have this conversation. "Because it's probably illegal! It's prostitution or coercion or abuse of authority or _something_."

"Do you feel coerced?" Claude asks Sean, feigning worry.

Sean plays along, pretending to consider it. "I don't think so." he says, taking another step forward.

Danny isn’t having any of it. "No! You know, Claude. I'm pretty sure there were, like, a million ways around this without having to take advantage of a rookie."

"He wants to." Claude says dismissively. "And so do you, don't even."

"No, I don't!" Danny’s pretty sure he’s said this about fifteen times by now.

"Don't lie. I've seen you stare at his ass."

"What? I haven't!" Danny turns to Sean, blushing. "I swear, I haven't been staring at your ass."

"Shut up, Danny." Sean says.

Claude looks smug, "Yeah, shut up, Danny."

Danny knows he’s not going to win this. "Why do _I_ feel like the one being coerced here?" He looks back at Claude, the vestiges of concern still lingering, "You want me to do this?" He has to be sure, “Because, seriously. I don’t give a fuck about your sense of fair orgasms. But, if this is-” he searches for the words, “If this is something you want to... watch?”

Claude just looks at him like he’s stupid. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"Are you sure?"

Claude rolls his eyes, " It’ll be hot, okay? Why do you have to make this so fucking hard? Me and Sean actually talked about this. I'm don't usually just demand that rookies jerk people off for me without checking that it's actually okay first."

"Ha. Could've fooled me." Danny quips, but it sounds weak, even to him.

"Would you just shut the fuck up and go with it. Jesus. Remind me never to do anything nice for you again."

Danny ignores him, looks up at where Sean's standing at the foot of the bed, "Sean. Do you _want_ this? You can say no. It’s okay."

Sean actually looks a little embarrassed, a flush on his cheeks, "Yeah," he breathes, takes the last step forward so he can rest one knee on the bed between Danny's legs, the first signs of hesitation since he entered, "Do you? Um, I can leave if you want. I don't want to go, but-" he takes a breath, "Can I kiss you?"

They should probably talk about it, what is and isn't allowed, but Sean is looking nervous and young, and Danny _wants_ more than he should, and so he nods. He'd be lying if he said he'd never thought about it, and Claude knows it. Sean's still looking unsure, Danny grabs his shirt, tugging him in reach and presses their mouths together. Danny's only really ever been with Sylvie and Claude. He's kissed other people, girls in bars and messing around, but not like this, with the knowledge of going further. Sean's hesitant to start with, like he's afraid Danny's going to change his mind and push him away.

Once he realises that it’s _okay_ , that Danny’s not going to say no, it’s like a switch has been flicked, and he shoves Danny back roughly, climbing over onto the bed with his knees on either side of Danny’s hips, fingers curled around his shoulders keeping him still and kissing him like he’s desperate for it.

Like this, Danny's really feeling the size difference, the extra five inches on Sean meaning that like this, sprawled out messy on the bed, Danny's completely covered, the warm weight of Sean above him, the extra muscle pinning him down. It's turning him on more than he wants to admit. He’s like a fucking whirlwind, and Danny holds on, fingers still twisted in Sean’s shirt, and he forces himself to let go, reach around to tug at the material until Sean gets the hint, pulling away far enough to yank his shirt over his head.

Danny’s not that tiny or light, solid bulk and muscle, but Sean moves him around like he’s nothing, pushing and shoving and tugging until Danny’s exactly how he wants him, until he’s tugged Danny’s shirt off, and the sweats from his hips and Danny takes the moment to reach back, pull Claude in closer.

“Kiss me,” he demands, and Claude laughs, a note of relief in his voice, now that Danny’s given in.

“Now who’s bossy,” he teases, but kisses him anyway, sprawled awkwardly over the bed, and Danny tugs his fingers through Claude’s hair, smiles up at him.

There’s a nip of teeth at his hip, and Danny flinches, pulls his mouth from Claude’s and props himself up on his elbows to grin down the end of the bed at Sean. “Feeling neglected?” he asks jokingly, and Sean shakes his head, skating his hands up Danny’s thighs.

“Just wanted you to see this.” he says, with a mischievous smile, before leaning forward and licking a stripe up the underside of Danny’s cock.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Danny lets his head fall back, little desperate noises at the back of his throat as Sean takes him in, wet heat and suction, and it’s been far, far too long since anyone’s done this to him, his thighs are shaking, and if Sean doesn’t ease off a little, this is going to be over too soon.

Claude’s watching his face, tucking himself tight against Danny’s side, tracing the tips of his fingers down Danny’s chest, the occasional brush of the plaster cast rough against his skin. “You’re really fucking hot like this,” he breathes, kissing him hard and Danny is vaguely aware of Claude hard again, up against his hip.

He feels like the breath is being sucked from his body, dizzy and desperate, and if it weren’t for the fact that he can barely remember his own name, he’s pretty sure he should be embarrassed about how soon he’s going to come, and it feels like hours, is probably only a few minutes before he reaches down to grip at Sean’s hair, pulls his mouth from Claude’s to gasp a quick warning, grateful for the large hands at his hips that are pinning him down. Fuck _fuck_. His heart’s hammering a million miles an hour, body feeling shaky and buzzed, aftershocks still zipping through muscle as he comes down.

“Mmm. C’mere.” Danny murmurs after a moment, gesturing with loose limbs for Sean to join him, noticing with disapproval that Sean is still completely dressed.

“I - you,” Sean stammers, blushing, “You don’t have to.”

“Oh, _now_ you’re shy?” Danny says, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, lie down.” Sean doesn’t move, standing awkwardly at the end of the bed, and Danny sighs, shuffles down until he can grab hold of Sean’s ratty t-shirt, “Get naked. Lie down.” And when Sean just gapes at him, eyes wide, Danny yanks at his shirt hard enough that Sean stumbles, landing in an ungainly heap on the bed. “There,” Danny says sweetly, “Was that so hard?”

Claude’s laughing behind him, “Just do what he says, Couts. Better for everyone that way.”

Danny’s not patient enough to wait, pressing in close, sliding a hand down to press his palm through the material, against the bulge in Sean’s sweats. “If you’re not going to take them off, then I’ll get you off like this.” he says, voice quiet in Sean’s ear and Sean whimpers, presses his hips up against Danny’s hand.

“Anything.” He breathes.

“Claude,” Danny murmurs, glancing over his shoulder. “Give me a hand here, would you.”

Claude makes a little amused noise, “Nice choice of words there, dude.” He mutters, but shifts down, staring at Danny expectantly.

“Lift your hips,” directed at Sean this time, and it only takes a moment for Danny strip the sweats from Sean’s hips, “Claude, kneel over him.”

Danny waits until Claude is settled, leans over to kiss Sean hard. “Jerk him off.” he says breathlessly, grabbing one of Sean’s giant hands, and moving it so it’s wrapped around both Claude and Sean, “Like this.”

It takes approximately two seconds for the instructions to sink in, and Sean nods frantically, gripping tighter, fingers firm and Danny sits back on his heels for a moment to watch. The flush down Claude’s neck, the top of his chest. The flood of red on Sean’s cheeks, though from exertion or embarrassment, Danny’s not sure. He leans down, presses his mouth to Sean’s, brutal, biting kisses intended to rile, to make him _want_ , to push him further. Putting on a show for Claude.

“Danny-” Claude’s voice is high pitched and shaky, and Danny grins, pulling away from Sean to kiss Claude properly, to grab his shoulders to steady him as he shakes through his orgasm, hips jerking, and Claude grabs at Danny’s shoulders, the scratch of plaster against skin, and it’s one of the hottest things Danny’s ever seen before in his life.

Sean’s still shaking beneath them, fingers moving fast over his own cock, pushing his hips into his own hand, and Danny runs his hand through the mess Claude made, presses his mouth to the juncture of Sean’s neck and shoulder and bites down. “C’mon, Sean.”

A whimpered whine and Sean’s coming all over his own hand, shuddering through the high, and Danny kisses him, shifts so Claude can kiss him too and they flop back onto the mattress, all silent for a moment. “You know,” Danny murmurs, sleepy now, throwing an arm over Claude’s stomach, “You didn’t have to-”

“I wanted to. _You_ wanted to. Even Sean wanted to. Stop stressing.” Claude grins, turns his head to kiss him, slow and satisfied, “Besides, it was hot. Told you it would be.”

Sean snorts, still flopped over in a heap at the end of the bed. “Shut up, Danny. Claude has the best ideas.”

“Yeah.” Claude says, sounding satisfied. “I do. Besides, this is going to make the next five weeks _much_ less horrible.”

*

END  



End file.
